Chapter 798 Successful 꿛 Technique Lu Qingyang asked Grandpa, "Grandpa, are you scared about the 꿛 technique?"
The old man stroked his beard: "We've come all this way through wind and rain, what's there to be afraid of? At worst, we'll just get another cut."
Xia Bangjie said confidently, "Don't worry, old man, I will definitely do a good job of the procedure for you."
꿛Shu day.
The cold, icy light of the operating lamp poured down, enveloping the operating table in a solemn white glow.
Grandpa has been safely anesthetized, and his head is firmly fixed in place by a precision head frame.
The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant.
Professor Xia Bangjie stood at the surgeon's position, fully dressed, with only his eyes showing.
As the first assistant, Shen Mo stood opposite him. She could clearly hear the powerful pounding of her heart in her chest, not out of fear, but out of a mixture of awe and a great sense of responsibility.
The technique has begun.
Xia Wenyuan is as steady as a rock.
As the scalpel cuts through the scalpel, electrocoagulates to stop the bleeding, opens the bone window, and advances step by step into the depths of the brain, every movement he makes is precise, concise, and efficient, without the slightest redundancy.
Shen Mo cooperated with complete focus, handing over instruments, suctioning out blood, and exposing the surgical field. Her movements were steady and accurate, but she was already deeply shocked by the scene before her.
She had seen many techniques, but never one so effortlessly executed, yet with such extreme caution.
Xia Bangjie's familiarity with brain structure is truly remarkable.
When the microscope was pushed up and the field of view was magnified to the extreme, the dark bullet that had troubled the old man for most of his life and was almost grown together with his brain tissue was finally exposed to everyone. Even Chen Mo, who had participated in many simulations, couldn't help but gasp.
It is more dangerous than it appears on camera.
This is where the real test begins.
Shen Mo's heart jumped into her throat.
Time was tight and time was slowly slipping away during the operation.
Finally, the most critical and dangerous adhesions were successfully separated, and a tiny, but life-saving, gap appeared between the elastic and the normal brain tissue.
Xia Bangjie moved his wrist with remarkable stability, and the jaws of the pincers precisely probed into the gap, gently clamping the main body of the bullet.
Then, he slowly and carefully took out the bullet that had been buried forty minutes ago!
When the metallic object stained with dark red blood was placed into the curved plate, producing a crisp yet incredibly heavy clang, almost everyone in the operating room breathed a sigh of relief at that moment.
Shen Mo felt her legs were a little weak, a feeling of exhaustion from suddenly relaxing after being under intense tension.
The subsequent steps—stopping bleeding, rinsing, confirming no active bleeding, closing the skull—were completed in a steady, almost triumphant rhythm.
When the last stitch was finished, Xia Bangjie looked up at the stable vital signs data on the monitor.
"The surgery is complete, the bullet has been completely removed, and the patient's vital signs are stable."
Lu Qingyang felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. Not only had he performed the ritual for his grandfather, but he had also left behind an outstanding talent.
Grandpa Na returned home from the hospital to rest, his head still wrapped in a snow-white gauze.
Although he was still somewhat listless, the cloudiness in his eyes seemed to have been scraped away by the magic knife, revealing a long-lost clarity.
Lu Qingyang deeply understands the principle that "food therapy is worse than medicine therapy," especially for elderly people with weak digestive systems after surgery.
He stewed a soup, but it wasn't just any ordinary bone broth.
The main ingredient is tender pigeon meat that has been carefully blanched to remove blood and impurities. The pigeons are local pigeons sourced from the countryside, which are said to be particularly nourishing.
The soup base is made with high-quality pork shoulder bones, simmered over low heat to extract the marrow, resulting in a clear and non-greasy broth.
The herbal soup strengthens the spleen and stomach, a few goji berries improve eyesight, three to five red dates add sweetness and replenish blood, and finally, I secretly added two small pieces of high-quality ginseng from my own space, intending to invigorate qi, nourish yin, and promote recovery.
Simmering the ingredients slowly over a low flame extracts their essence, resulting in a clear broth with an incredibly fresh and mellow flavor, its aroma wafting through half the alley.
Every time Lu Qingyang brought that small bowl of soup to the old man, the old man would not say anything, but he would subconsciously sniff it twice, and then let his grandson feed him spoonful by spoonful.
Grandma Ng watched from the side and couldn't help but mutter, "Qingyang really knows how to make things. This soup smells so good, much better than the medicinal dregs that I used to make."
Grandma is getting on in years and her energy is waning, so taking care of her post-operative patients is inevitably difficult.
Lu Qingyang and Zhongwen discussed it and decided to hire a caregiver. They didn't dare to make it public, fearing that the old man would feel awkward about being "served."
Through the neighborhood office, they found a woman in her forties named Zhang, who was clean and neat in appearance.
As soon as Aunt Zhang arrived, she demonstrated her extraordinary strength. She was incredibly strong, helping the old man get in and out of bed and moving things like rattan chairs with remarkable ease. One of hers was equivalent to half a strong laborer.
Grandma was initially quite satisfied, thinking that this guy was straightforward and easygoing.
Not long after, everyone realized something was wrong.
This woman is great in every way, except she can't stop talking.
While peeling an apple for the old man, she managed to steer the conversation towards family matters:
"Grandpa, you look so healthy and blessed. Your son and grandson are both so successful. Your family must be well-off, right?"
"Lu Zhizhi is so capable, what does his girlfriend, Doctor Shen, do?"
“Yesterday I saw the pastries that Ma Baozhi brought over. They were shiny and oily. They must have been expensive. In our alley, your family is the most prosperous.”
At first, the family thought she was just a kind-hearted person and occasionally gave her a vague response.
But her urge to inquire grew stronger and stronger, and she always liked to glance into the various rooms.
What's even more annoying is that everyone gradually discovered that the little things in the house started to "disappear" from time to time.
A few pieces of premium fruit candy are missing today, and in a few days, even the best new pair of scissors in the kitchen will be gone.
The items weren't particularly valuable, but the feeling was like finding a fly in your food—it was unsettling.
The old lady muttered to Jung-man privately, "I clearly remember putting half of the peach shortbread in the cupboard, how come it's gone?"
Jung-moon frowned: "Are you sure you've got the place right?"
"There's no mistake!" the old woman said in a low voice. "I suspect... it's that Zhang Sao who's having dirty feet!"
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